” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. Fortescue is an actor, and your father does not approve of the profession. The key is in my trousers. The world is like a peppery horse. Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. “You will not give Sir John any cause for jealousy? You will have no secrets from him except—concerning those things which are past?” “Anna, I swear it!” her sister sobbed. The door leaned inward. “Of course we go to school. —Providence, I mean—HAS arranged it so that men will keep you, more or less.
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